


Manual Labor

by PiecesOfScully



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, MSR, Sorry Not Sorry, because who doesn't enjoy smut biscuits, i have a thing for office smut, just a little smut biscuit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-28 01:05:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8424613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiecesOfScully/pseuds/PiecesOfScully
Summary: It's Season 7 smut.  That's it.





	

A handful of agents shuffled into the large room in front them, before Mulder and Scully crossed the threshold. Black padded chairs were lined in 20 precise rows with 3 foot wide aisles along the outside, that way if someone felt the need to make a desperate dash to the restroom, they could use whichever aisle was closest so not to disturb the mandatory seminar. The room was surprisingly bare, save for the chairs, one long table at the front of the room, and the large screen that sat above it.

The other agents migrated towards the front of the seating area, cups of coffee in hand as they chattered about the latest case that made the headlines and a sporting event’s scores from the night before. Scully nearly rolled her eyes at the dreaded thought of small talk, as Mulder gently tugged at her elbow, directing her towards the back of the room. She shot him a brief smile and nod of agreement before allowing him to lead her to the last row of seats. 

“Guess we missed the memo that this party was BYOC,” he muttered.

“Hmm?”

“Bring your own coffee.”

“Ah, right,” she replied. “Wish I’d have known.”

She sighed heavily at her skirt feeling unusually tight as she lowered herself into the seat, just a few chairs from the end, as Mulder plopped into the one next to her. The waistband dug deeply into her stomach as the fabric pulled taut at her hips. It had been a difficult morning, one that can only be attributed to it being Monday. She’d awoken 30 minutes later than usual due to her alarm clock resetting as a result from the storm induced power outages, which led to a rushed shower in which she dropped the full bottle of conditioner onto her toes while attempting the ‘condition your hair while shaving’ technique. That led to her digging through her closet with a toothbrush hanging from her lips, trying to find something, anything to wear because she’d forgotten to pick up her dry cleaning the day before, and having to settle on this skirt suit that was a size too small which had sat forgotten behind two Easter dresses because she was running short on time and her hair had begun to curl around her face as it air dried. The fact that she wasn’t wearing pantyhose because of a run in her last pair was the icing on the Monday cake. 

With a quick shift of her weight and a flick of her wrists, her skirt was pulled up a few inches to relieve the pressure that had sat against her bellybutton. Her eyes peered around the room quickly, thankful to be multiple rows behind any of the other agents present for the seminar. Mulder cleared his throat quietly and his fingers twitched on the armrest, as she caught his gaze lingering on the now exposed skin of her lower thighs. 

“Stop,” she whispered, staring straight ahead while crossing her legs away from him.

She could still feel his eyes on her, feel the smirk that spread fleetingly across his face, before turning his eyes to the instructor at the front of the room.

“Morning, everyone,” the instructor, an older gentleman, began. “First off, I want to thank you all for attending this workshop on manual labor, also known as your field reports. I know it’s early, but if you’ll…”

The instructor’s voice droned on through his introduction, as she settled further into her seat, her thoughts turning to Mulder. Specifically, his behavior as of late. Months ago when they’d mutually decided to take the next step with their relationship, crossed that line and had become intimate, they’d agreed to keep it out of the workplace. The Hoover building and their basement office were off limits. Motel rooms were still a grey area, but for the most part business and pleasure were to be kept separate for a multitude of reasons. 

Until recently.

It had started innocently enough. A peck of his lips to her temple before he left the office for a meeting with Skinner. It had been so soft and quick that if she hadn’t have actually felt it, she would have questioned if it had even happened or if she’d imagined it. 

After that had been the obvious brush of his hand against her ass as he passed by her to grab a file from the 70’s out of the filing cabinet after a somewhat heated debate about bigfoot sightings in Pierce County, Washington. She would have confronted him right then, had she not been so stunned by the audaciousness of his actions and his quick return to the argument at hand. 

The most recent was just 3 days ago, when she was leaning across the desk to grab a pen, and he closed what little distance there had been with his nose to her neck. She had been frozen in place by the sheer intimacy of the act. The sound of him inhaling, taking in the scent of her. The rush of heat across her skin as he exhaled slowly, as if to keep a part of her within himself for as long as possible. The nerve-endings sparking along her jawline from the brush of his lips.

His behavior had been putting her on edge for the last two weeks, had her toeing that delicate line of balance, threatening to thrust her over the edge and completely obliterate Rule #1 with him right there on the table she called her desk. 

Dangerous behavior. Dangerous, indeed.

With a sideways glance to her right, she watched him fumble with the small bag of sunflower seeds that he’d pocketed earlier that morning. The tips of his long fingers pinched the corner of the bag, twisting slightly as he peeled the corner back, as his other hand gripped the girth of the bag tightly, holding it firmly in place. His eyes were fixated on the screen at the front of the room as he rolled the small piece of plastic between his index finger and thumb, back and forth. Scully absentmindedly uncrossed her legs, bringing them together, her knees pressed tightly against each other. Her nipples tightened as she watched as his fingers continued to roll the shard of plastic back and forth. Back and forth.

“And as you know,” the instructors voice suddenly boomed throughout the room, cutting through her thoughts. “Correctly filled out paperwork is incredibly important in your line of work.”

Jesus, Dana. Get a fucking grip. 

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, begging her body to calm down as she attempted to listen to what the instructor was saying.

“I have a short 15 minute video for you all to observe,” the man said, gesturing to the screen behind him.

She stifled the groan that had risen up her throat as the lights were dimmed. She really should have grabbed another coffee before coming up here. Mulder shifted towards her in his seat to her right, leaning more of his body weight onto the arm rests that lay between them, as a melodic tune filled the room and a picture of an empty desk flickered onto the screen. He’d be asleep within minutes.

Her eyes strained as she looked around the room, taking a mental headcount of who else had fallen victim to this new brand of torture the FBI had decided to inflict upon them.

Walter Barron from VCU was off to the right, about ten rows ahead. She’d recognize his two weeks past needing a haircut neckline anywhere. He’d sat closer to the front, most likely as a way to ensure that he would be forced to stay awake. Kelly Thompson, a few seats away from Walter, from…she wasn’t sure what division she was in, actually. Scully had seen her around in the hallways periodically, and had heard her name somewhere, but she couldn’t pinpoint where. Johnson and his partner sat a few rows ahead of Kelly. The other five that were scattered within the first three rows were too far away for her to recognize.

A light tap against her foot caught her attention, and she turned to look at Mulder. Just get through this, she said to him with a cocked eyebrow and pursed lips. He nodded in response, his gaze trailing back to the actor on the screen. 

“These documents must be filed within forty-eight hours,” the actor said to the camera, as he sat behind the desk holding a few loose leaf pieces of paper in his hands. 

Scully sat up a little straighter, and crossed her arms loosely across her chest, fighting the urge to look at Mulder to make sure he was listening. Not only listening, but actually comprehending what the actor was saying. Ever the reason for their reports being turned in tardy, always resulting in a strongly worded email reminding both of them that-

His fingertips grazed her knee. She inhaled sharply through her nose as she watched his hand relax just above her kneecap, his fingers squeezing gently after coming to rest there. The warmth from his hand seemed to radiate across her skin. Her leg jerked slightly as she went to cross it over the other, to break the connection he’d just made, but was held in place firmly by his hand. His thumb began to lazily draw lines along the outer edge of her knee, and her eyes darted in his direction, searching out his eyes to tell him to back off, but he stared ahead. 

She should have whispered for him to stop, should have pushed his hand away, but her entire body went numb before she could do either as she felt his fingertips slowly begin grazing up the length of her thigh. She could feel nothing else but his skin on hers. She wasn’t even sure she was breathing. Inch by inch, her skin was set afire as his fingers lightly danced up the delicate skin along her inner thigh, stopping at the hem of her skirt. 

Warmth spread throughout her lower belly as she clamped her legs shut, an honest attempt at refusing him access to what lay now nearly pulsating underneath that cotton/polyester blend. She chanced another glance his way, but he continued to stare ahead with a mask of indifference on his face. Her eyes snapped back to the front of the room, attempting to focus on the bullet points printed starkly across the bright screen. 

· * Name and Date  
· * Badge Number  
· *  
His persistent fingers pressed gently into her opposite thigh, her legs betraying her and spreading slightly on their own accord. The delicious warmth that had settled in her belly now radiated lower to her center in waves, her pulse quickened. She kept her eyes fixated in the direction ahead of her, not wanting to attract attention as he shifted in his seat allowing him better range of motion. 

Act normal. Appear engaged in the video. 

With a nudge of his knuckles her legs spread a little more, allowing his hand to disappear completely underneath her skirt. 

She bit her bottom lip and felt her eyes go wide as his fingers finally made contact with her over her thin satin panties. The tension in her arms loosened as her hands fell slack atop her stomach. She held her breath as she felt his fingers press against her core, into the damp fabric, then slide their way up. 

It felt like a jolt of electricity surged through her body as his fingertip circled lightly over her clitoris, her left hand gripped the arm rest tightly, her knuckles fading to white. Her clit was like his north star; he could find it even in the darkest of rooms with minimal effort. Her jaw muscles twitched as she clenched her teeth, biting back the moan that threatened to pour out of her as he began a slow pattern of figure eights over her panties. Desire burned deep within her, her body desperate for the feeling of him inside of her. 

The front of her blazer heaved as she struggled to keep her breathing slow and even, his fingertips continuing their tantalizing motion over and around her clit. Her eyes dropped to her lap and she nearly gasped at what she saw. Her knees were parted slightly with his arm draped across her thigh. Her skirt shuffled slightly, rising and falling in time with the ripples of pleasure that were coursing through her. There was something incredibly erotic about not being able to see what he was doing to her, but feeling it. 

Between her legs she felt him fumble for a moment, then dropped her chin to her chest as she felt his hand slip under her panties and the first finger plunge into her depths. It retreated quickly, and then there were two sliding into her. She could only imagine the look on her face, and tried lamely to hide it behind the curtain of hair. Her abdominal muscles tightened as her hips thrust forward, taking his fingers in deeper until she could feel the heel of his hand pressed against her clitoris. 

Her right hand clung to his wrist, her nails digging into his skin as she held it in place as her hips rocked gently against his hand. She’d tried to stay still for so long, but her body’s desperation was overwhelming. She was so close, so close. She was suddenly thankful for the loud volume of the video as her breaths were released in quick pants. His fingers curved inside of her applying the perfect amount of pressure to that soft spot just above her pelvic bone, and all of a sudden she was coming. White spots twinkled behind her eyelids as her head tipped back, her orgasm rushing throughout her body. 

Mulder’s hand slowed, riding out the waves with her before finally coming to rest. She opened her eyes slowly to see the video still playing on the screen, as her heartbeat returned to a normal rate, her breathing slower. Her grip on the armrest loosened as his hand slipped from under her skirt.

The credits began to roll on the screen ahead of them, and the lights flicked on abruptly.

“So!” The instructor said enthusiastically. “That was pretty exciting, right?”

xxxx


End file.
